


Yes

by Kass



Series: Harry Potter fanworks [4]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: OT3, Other, for Sanj, trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-19
Updated: 2008-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kass/pseuds/Kass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry reflects on his favorite thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes

**Author's Note:**

> A wee OT3 vignette written for Sanj's birthday, 2005.

Harry's favorite thing was waking before sunrise and watching Ron and Hermione sleep.

He'd never been able to accustom himself to falling asleep tangled with another body. Ron liked it, maybe because he'd spent his childhood wrestling with his older brothers. Hermione liked it, maybe because girls were supposed to.

Harry didn't. The pressure of a leg pinning him down always woke him, heart pounding. So he slept unencumbered, beside the wall.

Which meant that when he woke first, as he often did, he could lie awake and watch the last moonlight recede over Ron's freckled shoulder, across Hermione's pale breasts. It was a sharp kind of pleasure. Harry had always known the two of them would become lovers, even before he understood exactly what "lovers" meant. His two best-beloveds, together, as they were meant to be. Red and gold. Perfect.

They would have been complete without him. But they wouldn't hear of it, and Harry wasn't selfless enough to argue, not by half. He'd had more than his share of solitude.

When one of them woke—usually Hermione, though whether from the prick of sun on her eyelids or from sensing Harry's regard he was never sure—she would smile sleepily and uncurl her arms. Her hair would smell of cinnamon, Ron's strong chest would lie bare, and he would fall willingly.

And later, in the thick of things—Hermione glorious atop him, Ron hard and rubbing against his hip; or Ron pushing into him slowly whilst Hermione fingered herself, eyes shadowed with desire—she would murmur, "is this what you were thinking, watching us sleep?"

And Harry would imagine them without him again, and the twinned sorrow and joy would fill his heart to overflowing, and he would lie, and say yes, always yes.


End file.
